


muscle to muscle, toe to toe

by allourheroes



Series: toe to toe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, First Time, Frottage, Heavily implied past non-consensual sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual reactions as training, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is pretty sure Hydra instilled the idea of some less-than-okay methods to complete a mission in Bucky.</p><p> <i>"Has no one ever, you know, treated you...right?" Sam asks, but his hand is firm on Bucky's hip, his thumb sliding smoothly over the joint just beneath the low waist of his pants.</i></p><p> <i>"I'm not a girl," Bucky says.</i></p><p> <i>Sam chuckles. "That's sexist."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	muscle to muscle, toe to toe

**Author's Note:**

> **Please read the warnings.**
> 
> Okay. Maybe I'm a bad person but the Sam/Bucky tag needed more porn. I...apologize?
> 
> (Title comes from the alt-J song "Breezeblocks"...which is also kind of fucked up.)

Bucky lets the guy press against him, squirms his hips in such a way the guy can't help but gasp. It's quite a sight, and Sam hates that it's the worst he's ever felt for Bucky and yet the most he's been turned on in months at the same time.

Sam hates _himself_ as he tries to will away the semi he's got going and focus on the mission instead. He tries to watch Bucky with a certain amount of disconnect, but it's upsetting. On multiple levels.

Eventually, the guy's leg is broken--in several places, Sam is sure--and Bucky's metal arm makes its telltale whir as he straddles the guy and punches him hard in the face, knocks him out.

Sam would almost feel sorry for the guy.

He would've let his guard down if Bucky had been grinding on him, too. And _he_ used think Bucky was the creepiest thing he'd ever seen.

The way the dude reacted though? As if he _owned_ him? And Bucky had just gone all submissive and limp?

That freaked him out. That was a behavior you saw in victims, in people who'd been trained like that, in one way or another.

Unfortunately, Bucky doesn't fail to take notice of Sam's _other_ thoughts. Despite how hard Sam tries to shake them off as if he'd never had them to begin with. He follows Sam to his house that night, gets invited in because Sam doesn't know what else to do with him. Telling him to fuck off seems too harsh without any tangible incentive to react to.

They stand awkwardly in the kitchen for a while. They had already taken the chance to clean up in Steve's empty apartment. It was closer and he was off doing whatever Avengers did, but now they were in Sam's house, his own space. He notices Bucky's boots abandoned next to his own shoes.

It's weird with Bucky just standing there, but when Sam heads to his room to change, Bucky follows him. Again.

"Liked what you saw," Bucky says. It should be a question, but the tone isn't quite there.

Sam shakes his head, stretches. "That was messed _up_ ," he replies, and he means it so it's not a lie, even if he can _feel_ his pulse quicken at Bucky's mention of it.

Bucky rolls his shoulders and his gaze focuses somewhere far off, on something that isn't there. He bites in his lower lip and Sam's eyes are drawn to the shine of it as he lets it go. Bucky's eyes flicker to him. "But you liked it."

There's definitely no question in that. Bucky moves in closer and Sam breathes out harshly as the other man insinuates himself into his space, makes his intentions clear.

"Has no one ever, you know, treated you...right?" Sam asks, but his hand is firm on Bucky's hip, his thumb sliding smoothly over the joint just beneath the low waist of his pants.

"I'm not a girl," Bucky says.

Sam chuckles. "That's sexist."

At this, Bucky just glares. "You know what I mean."

"You were born in 1917. I get it. Old guys like you just can't help it, right?" Bucky opens his mouth and Sam is certain his words would've been sarcastic and wonderful, but he puts a hand on Bucky's neck, strokes a thumb gently across his cheek. If this is happening, he's doing it his way.

Bucky's breath catches and he freezes for a fraction of a second before he leans forward and captures Sam's mouth with his own, prevents any sweetness from spilling out. Sam responds immediately, but Bucky's enthusiasm only grows stronger until Sam is groaning into his mouth and hard against his thigh.

"What I _mean_ is," Bucky starts, breathing harshly, and he kisses Sam again, hands moving to the fly of the man's jeans and unbuttoning them with ease, "'M not _fragile_."

Sam blows out a little puff of air through his nostrils and Bucky wants to prove just how wrong Sam is to disagree with him.

"What?" he asks, an edge of real annoyance there.

"Matter of opinion," Sam says, mouths his neck tenderly--too gently. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He places a soft kiss on Bucky's shoulder that gets to the soldier through excessive layers of shirts and jackets.

Bucky huffs, yanking off his jacket, pulling shirts off over his head, exposing skin and metal. Sam rubs his thumb over the scar tissue where the two connect.

If the way Bucky tenses up when he does it is any indication, the guy's still got some senses in there. He's still vulnerable despite whatever lies he might be telling.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asks, but it's barely a breath.

"Treating you right," Sam tells him. He kisses him and Bucky is lax for a moment before his mouth opens to Sam's ministrations, the gentle stroke of tongue on tongue.

"Shut up." Bucky uses his metal hand to simply rip Sam's t-shirt off, to one-up him into harshness, into speeding up.

Sam stops long enough to glare. "What the fuck, man?"

Bucky shrugs, his grin explanation enough.

"You're lucky you're so damn cute," Sam says and pushes Bucky back towards the bed. He gets on top of him and Bucky lifts his hips to grind against Sam, slides his warm, human hand over chest and abs.

Bucky hums, then leans up to bite at Sam's neck and collarbone.

"I gotta ask," Sam interrupts, and Bucky bites hard, causing Sam to hiss out a breath. He pushes Bucky back down onto the bed, dislodges him from his body. He looks at the other man, really looks at him, and Bucky's impatient gaze meets his. "Do you want this? Me?" He backtracks slightly, runs fingertips down to the waistband of Bucky's pants but no further. "Not-- not that you and me gotta be a _thing_ after this, I just gotta make sure--"

"That you're not taking _advantage_ of me?" Bucky asks, something sharp and almost mean in his eyes, his expression.

Sam swallows down any words that might frustrate Bucky even more, just nods.

Bucky cocks his head and doesn't really answer. He shimmies out of his pants instead--nothing underneath--and looks up at Sam. "Come on," he says.

Sam sighs. "But--"

"No." Bucky glances down between their bodies, back to Sam's face. He watches as Sam does the same, can practically feel Sam's heart rate picking up at the sight of him.

"Fuck." Sam squirms down his body, the occasional kiss as he goes. His jeans splay open around his hips as he falls back onto his haunches, takes in the visual he has before him. " _Fuck_."

"I thought that was the idea, but with the way you keep stalling..." Bucky smirks until Sam leans down, takes him into his mouth and causes him to grip the covers.

Bucky watches Sam's head bob up and down, lips wrapped around his cock, and loses himself in the sensation for a moment, in wet heat and friction. One of Sam's hands settles onto his hip, the other on his inner thigh. He shudders and sits up quickly, nearly knocking into Sam, who rears up with him, as he hastens to get the other man completely undressed. Bucky pushes Sam back, his jeans off and boxer briefs with them, and tosses them literally across the room, knocking a picture frame off the dresser with his force.

"Kiss me," Bucky says, his voice hoarse. Sam is surprised, eyes flickering from Bucky's own down to his lips. "Please," Bucky adds, and Sam's eyes widen and he acquiesces, fingers threading together at the nape of Bucky's neck. They slide to his chest.

"You doin' okay?" Sam asks.

Bucky nods. "Yeah. Just-- just get on top of me."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You sure you're okay?"

"Wanna feel you against me," Bucky murmurs against his lips and kisses him as he pulls him against his body, keeps at it until they're horizontal again.

Sam waits as Bucky just breathes.

There is the subtle, almost incidental, shift of hips then, and Bucky's cock slides ever-so-lightly against his. His hips arch forward without his permission, but Bucky just moves against him.

"Come on, come on, come on," Bucky breathes like a mantra, but his eyes are closed and Sam's movements are careful. He places human and metal hands on Sam's back, his hips, digs in fingernails with the hand that has any to do so. "Sam, please."

Bucky using his name instantly takes out a bit of his unease while simultaneously making his heart feel like it's trying to beat its way out of his chest. "Bucky," he says, because someone should--because Bucky needs to know Sam is there with _him_ , not the Winter Soldier.

Sam grinds against him again, takes both of them into his hand as best he can. He squeezes gently, feels Bucky spasm a little. He kisses the other man, but his hand stays between their bodies. "This good for you?"

Bucky shakes his head and his metal arm shoots out toward the nightstand, scrabbling for something.

Sam immediately places his hands on Bucky's shoulders. "Hold up," he says, and Bucky does. He swallows, tries to catch his breath. "What are you-- Do you you want me to-- 'Cause we don't have to do that, you know."

Bucky cants his hips. "I know," he says, eyes rolling, but his metal fingers reach out again and Sam does it for him, pulling open the drawer to find what they need.

"You sure?" he asks and knows that Bucky is sick of every iteration of that question. "Okay," he says when he receives a look but no answer. "Okay," he says again, to himself this time, as he slicks his fingers.

Bucky spreads his legs as far apart as they can easily go under Sam. "What're you waiting for?" His crooked smile has the barest hint of teeth and danger.

Sam's hand moves down between their bodies, gives Bucky's cock a slick stroke and then slides lower. He's slow about it--hasn't done this in a long time--and Bucky's impatience seems to be held at bay as Sam works him open, adding another finger, then another. Bucky doesn't hiss or whine or show any outward sign of pain or discomfort now. It brings into contrast how he reacted to Sam's soft touch to his shoulder earlier, to the lightest of kisses.

Sam can't take it--he kisses Bucky again and tries to force into it all those reassuring words he can't say. He's certain a few slip out as he does--"it's okay," "not gonna hurt," "you're okay," "please just"--but his fingers do the job well until Bucky feels pliant enough beneath him, and he continues for another minute when he hears a little gasp.

"Just a sec," Sam tells him, pulling away. Bucky's eyes are glazed over as he watches him roll on the condom. "You gotta tell me to stop if you need me to stop."

"Yeah, sure," Bucky agrees without processing his words.

" _Bucky_."

"Shut up already," Bucky says, his strong legs wrapped around Sam's waist, pulling him in. Sam guides himself, but his hands are shaking as he presses into Bucky's body. He can feel the guy's cock leaking where it strains against his stomach.

"God, Buck," the words slip out.

Bucky just laughs, pulls him in tighter, deeper, sighing as Sam begins to move. "You're pretty good at this, you know," he says. Sam grins down at him and he quirks his lips, his breath is coming hard, but he adds, just for Sam, "It's surprising."

"Uh-huh," Sam drawls, but he shifts the angle of his hips and Bucky's breath catches in his throat.

Bucky uses the unfair advantage of a super strong metal arm to flip them over.

Sam chuckles, hands coming to rest on Bucky's splayed thighs. "Okay. You do all the work, fine by me."

Bucky lays his human hand down on Sam's chest and rolls his hips rather lazily. "Okay," he says.

Sam just watches, biting his bottom lip as Bucky continues riding him slowly. He sighs out a breath, "Now who's taking their sweet time about it."

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, but continues sliding himself up and down Sam's cock at a leisurely pace if only just to fuck with him. His metal hand wraps around his own cock and Sam's slides over it. Bucky starts to move faster and Sam thrusts up to meet him.

Their words are lost as they concentrate on sensation, on making the other groan and quake. Sam takes victory in the way Bucky has to stop, the way his muscles twitch and shift. He doesn't let up, he's close, too, and he knows he'll probably push himself over the edge in the process, but he fucks up into Bucky with quick, hard thrusts that have the man on top of him unable to do much but go along for the ride, his metal hand replaced completely by Sam's.

He feels it, that tensing and shuddering as Bucky's comes, sticky and warm over Sam's hand and chest, his muscles tightening and spasming around Sam's cock. He gives another couple of thrusts before he's gone, too.

They breathe together.

"Bucky," Sam says softly, reaching up his clean hand to push a lock of unkempt hair behind the man's ear.

Bucky doesn't look at him for a minute, his hands balling up into fists in the covers on either side of Sam. When his eyes finally meet Sam's, he looks...well, _surprised_.

"You okay?"

He nods, the hesitates. "Yes. No-- I just-- I don't know."

Sam sits up immediately, but Bucky leans towards him instead, doesn't seem to mind the mess as he presses himself close to Sam's chest. Sam gradually leans back on his elbows, then all the way down.

Bucky is quiet but his hand is warm where it wraps around Sam's shoulder, his face hidden in the crook of Sam's neck.

Sam adjusts, shifts so that he can slip out of him and reaches down to carefully remove the condom. He ties it as best he can one-handed before tossing it towards the trash.

He wraps his arms around Bucky, figuring it didn't matter how dirty they were anyway.

Finally, he speaks--softly. "You made me feel good."

Sam tries to get a good look at him at that, but to no avail. He nudges Bucky's shoulder with his chin. "Hey."

"Mmph."

"What's wrong with feeling good?"

"Nothin'," Bucky says, finally turning his head, "I s'pose."

"Then what?" Sam kisses him and Bucky lazily returns it. They go on like that for a while, the occasional bite as lips and tongue and teeth meet.

Sam threads his fingers through Bucky's hair and just looks at him.

Bucky lets out a harsh laugh, his eyes closing as he shakes his head. He answers the question that neither has actually forgotten.

"It was never about me. I wasn't anybody."

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a little sequel!


End file.
